Thin
by RelapseAndEscape
Summary: 20 vignettes in which Finn battles his body image and how his thinking develops into an eating disorder. Hudmels. ED!Finn. Heavily focusing the Burt/Finn stepfather/stepson relationship. TW: suicide attempt. Oneshot.


_considering like writing Finn ED stories. here's another one. if this offends anyone, then it's not deliberate. :)_

* * *

1.

"Don't tell your Mother, or else she'll have my head on a plate."

Finn would smile at the idea of keeping a secret away from his Mother, as Burt and Finn clunk their beer cans together. The game roared in the screen as jovial chatter would be exchanged between them. Burt relaxed slowly.

"Aren't you kinda worried I'm a lightweight or something?" Finn asked, as he sipped the beer. It was good, just to be able to have beer without feeling really awkward, like he did around Puck and pressuring jocks when he was popular. He was once popular, but it felt like eons back.

Burt shook his head. The atmosphere was light, almost jovial. "With your size, I think you can chug a few and still be on your senses."

"Plus, I'm slow," Finn shrugged. He did that all the time, say things in stoic voices and think it was okay, or so that was what his Mom said as he deliberately put himself down for his own denseness– or rather, idiocy, but people were really nice to him even if he was stupid.

He played with the lid of his beer. He really didn't need all of it anyway. He was pretty sure that they called it liquid fat for a reason – duh. It made you _really_ fat, and Kurt didn't have any of it.

Somehow, it slipped his mind that Puck drank, Sam drank, and even Quinn stood a few drinks.

Finn thought back to when Puck and him were kids, when he was thirteen years old and when he announced to Puck he wanted to diet, but Puck's only response was:

_"You're not strong enough for a diet, Finnessa."_

Finn was strong though, right? He'd always have body issues with himself, and when sipping his beer, he thought he should start a diet. Tomorrow maybe? He can. He _was_ strong enough to drop a few pounds because after all, he can tackle big guys now in the game. He can do whatever he wanted. He felt a sudden surge of control beam into him.

"Hey, Burt, dude…uh…" Finn looked at him with uncertain eyes, fuelled by thoughts of just one word – control. "…you think I'm strong, right?"

"Boy, if you tackled me, I'd break my back." Finn thought so too.

Finn wasn't sure if that was the answer he wanted to hear anyway but he smiled anyway. Burt didn't really share beer with him anymore, especially after Kurt blew up because they were spending time together and it was okay. Sure, he liked having something with someone that was like a Dad but it wasn't like he needed it.

Each can of light beer was 96kcal. Each can of regular beer was 132kcal.

"Kurt," Finn suddenly stated out of nowhere one day. "What can I eat for like 96 or 132 calories?"

Kurt scrunched up his nose in thought. "Not very much actually. An apple can be anywhere from 73 to 94. Green ones are usually in the high 70's and red ones are usually in the 90's or 100's. Now, if you're talking cereal wise, most cups of cereal are around 110-130 calories, which is about thirty grams. Why ask?"

Finn shrugged. "I dunno. Like Burt's beer is like 132. And the light ones that Santana used to drink when Coach Sylvester wanted the Cheerio's to drop weight were like 96."

"Every calorie counts I suppose," Kurt shrugged.

Every calorie counts. He threw away all of his original Digestive biscuits and bought the light ones afterwards. The light ones tasted really awful. The difference between them?

One singular calorie.

Kurt might be right though. Kurt was always right. He was smart.

Finn was in control now. Carole liked when Finn was in control. It meant he didn't forget to leave the dryer on in the laundry room and risk ruining all of their clothes.

Finn shut his eyes when he tried on one of his old favourites jeans from last year.

When they wouldn't budge, Finn felt really old, gross and pretty fat, so he did the only logical thing he could. Kurt told him that red apples were higher calories, so he swapped them for green ones. Thirty grams from Cheerios were 111kcal per thirty grams and they were really nice.

He was gonna tell his Mom about it sometime, the whole counting calories thing. Except he didn't, because it sorta wasn't important.

"What do you think of Burt?" she just started dating him but she wanted Finn's input, like she wanted with Johnny, Darren and Thomas…and all the other guys that Finn can't remember their names right now.

Finn nodded. "He's cool. We hung out in the living room watching football and drinking beer sometimes, or you know, used to."

Carole pushed past Finn at hearing the word 'beer' and immediately called Burt. Finn felt really sick and by the time he saw Burt, Burt just looked sort of disappointed in him. "Thought it was our little secret, kid." Burt shrugged, sighing. "Guess I need a new drinking buddy, huh?" he was making a joke out of it too. Burt was a good guy.

Finn just nodded his head really slow. "Yeah, I guess."

He was going to tell his Mom about his weird eating thing, but just as he was about to open the door of the room, all he heard was one thing in his head, making him move away –

_"Don't tell your Mother, or else she'll have my head on a plate."_

2.

Finn turned sixteen on the 26th of December, meaning one thing: double presents.

Sure, Finn was being a kid about it, but he loved Christmas. He loved the smell of pine. He loved the whole tree, how real it was. He didn't want anything fancy. They broke out old Christmas decorations. This year, he had a fit because Kurt got to put the Christmas angel on the tree – Kurt couldn't even reach that high! He had to stand on a chair! – so Finn just sat down on the couch, crossing his arms.

Burt sat beside him, laughing. "Come on, kiddo. It's just a piece of glass they put up a tree. Don't mean a thing."

Finn just shrugged, looking sort of tired as he looked up at the tree. "It's just – it's _my_ thing. I don't like people taking it from me I guess."

Kurt looked at him in the 'I suppose you understand how I feel right now' sort of way. He would've said something too if it wasn't for the fact that it was Finn's birthday, and Finn always wanted a family for Christmas, so really, he had it all. Right? Right? He can wish that next year he got to put the angel on the tree, but when he shut his eyes to make a wish.

He couldn't.

All he can think about was when his eyes was going to open, he was going to have to eat it. He sort of did, but it wasn't eating. It was more like inhale, along with three mini-pizzas, a whole bar of fudge, toffee, and a lot of other stuff along with a whole load of hot chocolate. He felt really sick, like he can lie down all day and still feel sick, like he can't eat anymore every again sort of sick.

He went into the bathroom and then it was gone, all out of his tummy. His knuckles were really sore though.

He wished that he can be as light as the Christmas angel on the tree, but it was sorta too late for wishes. When he walked out, he was looking up at the tree. Burt was standing next to Finn and Finn just suddenly said.

"I don't like things taken from me, because I have to work for what I have, you know?" Finn was staring at the Christmas angel as he told Burt this. He was always the one that got the boxes out and put the ornaments. He picked the tree, and he got the wrappers and wrapped both his Mom's and Burt's presents for everyone else, but he didn't get to put the Christmas angel on the top of the tree.

Plus, he was younger than Kurt so he had to be able to put it on, right? Then again, he looked really fat and stuff. Even he forgot he was seven months younger than Kurt.

Burt wasn't really listening. "Saying something, Finn?"

"Oh?" Finn just shook his head. "No, dude. You must've misheard me. I think like…_Halloween_ was playing on or something."

There was one thing Finn was really good at: playing dumb. He'd forget all about this tomorrow, but kinda not.

He always liked that on the 26th of December, he got double presents, but his Mom told him that he only got the ones for Christmas this year, because it was strenuous to shop for other people and him too. That didn't matter. Finn was giving a gift to himself.

_You're sick._

Finn didn't really quite get that as he flushed down the toilet bowl concoction of vomit, spit, and bile.

3.

When Finn saw that Burt was trying to get Kurt to watch the game with him and to have a light beer with him, he didn't feel jealous. He felt almost relieved since he didn't have to ingest calories – why did those matter again? – but then again, he felt sorta like Burt didn't care about him anymore. He waited for Burt to call him, sitting there on the staircase evidentially and pretending to practice Chemistry but he really didn't get what an electrode really was. It sounded cool though in a geeky sorta way.

It didn't matter though. He had a lot of green apples, and a lot of low-calorie cereal and he sort of only ate 900 calories a day. He was hungry all the time but that was okay as long as he didn't faint, right?

Three weeks later, he fainted. Burt wasn't really around, and neither was Kurt. Puck thought it was from dehydration and gave him a tonne of water.

Finn fainted and yet he felt disgustingly fat, even more-so than normal, because the first thing Puck assumed was that he didn't drink enough water, when the amount of water Finn drunk can flood a really tiny village.

The entire team knew that Finn blacked out, including Coach Beiste. What hurt the most was that nobody asked him to eat anything, so when he went home, he didn't have to lie to Burt about what he ate. He didn't eat anything. Burt just snorted. "Eggs still count."

Of course, the eggs that he threw away on his way out, and the Gatorade he drank because his electrolytes were really low from purging, but that was okay, he guessed.

The hockey team once found him binning away his lunch. "Awe, what would Mommy say?" one of them was pushing him around. "Turning anorexic on us, Finn? Well, you're fat. You're fat and nothing's gonna change that, you know? Might as well as make Mommy happy."

Finn was disgusted, horrified, and it sort of stuck in his throat to say that his Mom wasn't around home a lot anymore.

Burt made Kurt his lunch by getting him this bagel he really liked.

Burt didn't make Finn his lunch. Kurt did.

4.

238.6. That was at the beginning of the season last year.

Mid-season, Coach Beiste wanted them to weigh in again. Finn had a complete panic attack the day before, wondering if he lost weight and if he did, then what if Beiste said something about it or phoned his Mom or something.

He weighed in at 182.4.

He lost 56.2lbs since last year and summer. He was sort of grinning. That was 56.2 in around seven or eight months.

When Kurt knew how much Finn weighed, he scrunched up his nose. "You incredibly tall athletic people…I don't know how you manage to put on all that muscle weight. Alas, the highest weight I've been was 169lbs at 5'10 and the lowest being 134 at 5'8."

Suddenly, Finn felt like he weighed too much again, but that was okay because he was doing something about it.

When he told Burt he weighed 182.4, Burt just shrugged. Nothing speaking about losing 56lbs in less than a pregnancy term. Nope.

At the end of the season and school year, Beiste weighed him up and he was 161.8, and that made one of the jocks shove him off the scale. "How's the anorexia, Finnessa?"

Finn didn't like that. Anorexia meant that he had to be really tiny, or so it said. When he asked Rachel to explain to him what a BMI of 17.5 meant, she even told him he had to be at 140 to even consider being there. Finn was shy of 20lbs away from 140.

Kurt wasn't home so he made Burt do the BMI thing for 161.8 at 6'3. It came out as 20.2 for a body mass index. He then looked up at Finn and clasped a hand on his back. Finn was opening his mouth. "Burt, dude, I had to talk to you about something—"

"Before you do," Burt suddenly said. "If your Coach told you to get down to 161.8 or something, then she's got another thing coming 'cause I'd notice if you were suddenly walking around the house that thin. It's not good for your height and built. Your Mom said so."

The irony in that statement made Finn laugh in his head until he felt like breaking down into tears and crying.

5.

Finn sometimes replayed the whole bedroom scene in his mind.

He curled up in his blanket, holding back sobs—not because he totally made Kurt feel really sad, not because Burt scared him, not because he can't believe he said those words…

But because _all_ he can think about was how skinny Kurt's hands when he brought them to his trembling lips as he cried.

6.

At 161.8, Finn didn't really have a lot of fat poking from his stomach, just a little bit. He still poked at it. He hated his lower tummy because it was just this pouch that came out from nowhere that made Finn groan with frustration. It was all fat and gross.

Burt decided to take the boys out for pizza. Kurt ordered a thin-sliced pizza and Finn said he'd eat the same as him.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Trying out the healthy lifestyle?"

Burt just shrugged. "Suit yourself. You're both crazy."

Finn wanted to laugh, but really, all he can think about was the fact that pizza still had a lot of calories and that was really bad, even though he was eating like Kurt and Kurt was pretty thing, like 140-150lbs thing at 5'11. By the time that the orders came, Finn was pretty convinced all he needed was a lemon wedge in his Diet Coke and half a slice of pizza.

90 calories for like half of it, and it wasn't even that good. Finn thought he was going to be sick in the car. He drank refills of Diet Coke until he drank about five in the span of just thirty-three minutes. His stomach was bubbly and empty.

He forgot he got car sick _really_ quick when he didn't eat and threw up in the car.

When Burt helped him upstairs, Finn was sort of leaning on him, all of his weight and that made Finn cringe because he was really, really fat. "Burt, dude, I…" Finn wanted to tell him that he didn't eat it on purpose, that he was pretty much starving right now and it wasn't the dull warm pain that Finn liked, it was that sharp ache that had a headache along with it too, like he was going to faint if he got up. He was bloated from all of the gas in the Diet Coke and at the same time, wanted to chug a lot more because he was just so sick. "I sorta didn't want to eat the pizza on purpose."

Burt just shrugged. "You on a diet, kid?"

Finn nodded his head. "Yeah…is it okay?" he ran his hand down his side, bumpy, gross and fatty side that can't be hide by his loose stripped shirts and loose pants.

"Sure, I guess," Burt muttered.

"I eat like _a lot_ of crap." Finn suddenly said. He didn't know what he was fishing for. If Burt told him no, he didn't and he shouldn't lose anymore, Finn was half-sure that he'd still keep on going, like it won't ever matter.

Burt just shrugged. He looked like his mind was somewhere else. "Yeah," he agreed and then he looked straight at Finn. "You think Kurt's okay? He's been acting really strange."

"Karofsky's sort of bugging him more," Finn noted and Burt nodded, clasping a hand on Finn's shoulder.

"Sleep good, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Finn nodded as he left. Finn fell asleep with something hot and sharp in his stomach – the hunger pangs, and the feeling of envy on his part for Burt's care for Kurt settling in his stomach like lead. It was heavy and weighed him down by three hundred pounds, and that was something he really wished he can purge out.

7.

Burt watched Finn practically speed into the kitchen. He put down his cup of coffee and raised his eyebrow as Finn looked through the cabinet, trying to find something.

Burt went back to his newspaper.

When Kurt walked inside, Kurt smiled. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Kurt," Burt looked up a bit from the paper. "I know that face. Don't tell me that I can get the news on my damned phone or something."

Kurt just shook his head, laughing. Burt went back to the paper.

Kurt turned around, seeing Finn rummage around the fridge, and getting a huge slice of cheddar to eat and another two for his sandwich as well as a lot of deli meat to fit the huge six-inch bread. Kurt was about to lecture him about slowing down and enjoying his food when he noticed Finn extend his hand towards the coffee beans.

Kurt knew Finn drank a lot of caffeine nowadays, usually in litres of coffee, but what caught his gaze was the fact that when Finn's shirt lift up, it made him alert at the fact that Finn looked pretty thin – actually, the more Kurt stared, the more he realised Finn was _thin_, something he didn't notice before. Not like Sam muscles and weight thin, but more of the lines of Kurt-thin. That was odd. Finn had no muscle at all.

"Where are my coffee beans?" Finn said.

"It's in the back," Burt said, not even looking from his paper.

Kurt watched him try to actually reach it, meaning his shirt lifted off just a bit more. "Finn, do you know how much your waist measures?"

Finn just stared at Kurt as if he'd asked him the oddest question. "Uh, no?" of course, he did.

"Can I?" Kurt said.

"Jeez, Kurt," Burt said from behind the paper. "Not everyone wants to be your mannequin."

Kurt just shrugged. "Stay here."

"Sure?" Finn raised an eyebrow, and went back to putting slices of cheese in his bread. When Kurt came back, he was holding a measuring tape in his hand.

"Do you know how much Sam is?" Finn asked.

"Yes! I had to do a waist to height ratio." Kurt nodded his head. "Sam has a thirty-one inch waist and a ratio of .43."

"Oh," Finn muttered as he nodded his head. "Is that good?"

Kurt nodded his head as he ran the measuring tape along Finn's waist. Finn didn't want to look at the number just in case he died from embarrassment. He took his iPhone and was calculating the number for him.

"Come on, Kurt, like it doesn't matter, right?"

Kurt shrugged. "I'm just interested."

Burt sighed. "Kurt, leave the poor kid alone," he looked from his paper, drinking his cup of coffee as Finn took the first bite of his overly cheesy overly turkey-filled sandwich. "Pretty sure he doesn't want you snooping around his waist size."

"Finn has a thirty-three inch one with a ratio of...hold on, I might use him as a mannequin," Kurt muttered. "A ratio of .44."

"Is that good?" no, it's fat. You're fat and disgusting—

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "I'll make you into my personal mannequin if it ever comes to it."

Finn grimaced, but somehow, he was flattered. "Kurt, dude…uh…can—can you do me a little favour?"

Kurt didn't understand what Finn was thinking of when he said, "Can you show me how to do that waist to height ratio thing?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the question but cautiously explained it before showing him down to do it. Burt didn't look up from his paper this time.

8.

Finn was shocked that Kurt didn't tell him his Dad had a heart attack and he had to hear it from his Mom, because really – Burt was kind of like his Dad too?

When Kurt blew up on him, Finn realised that he probably wasn't. Finn didn't mind sharing Carole, but Kurt really minded it when Finn made any indication that Burt was his Dad too. They weren't though. Carole was just dating Burt, that was it and that was all it was going to be.

When Burt had the heart attack, Finn did the only thing he could do – he restricted his food even more, and went out for more runs. His Mom didn't like to see him on the treadmill that Finn wanted to use all the time and Burt didn't like seeing Kurt on the treadmill either, so it was mostly collecting dust right now with Burt going on it twice or thrice a month depending on how much Kurt nagged him about it.

Finn walked inside to see Burt on the treadmill. "Hey," Finn sat down on the bed. He was pretty sure that if it was a diet, he can get off it, but he didn't think he could, which was really weird. "Burt, I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot," Burt was also watching the game. Finn never thought it was annoying until now.

"Can you look at me?" Finn gruffly said. The lack of food made him irritable sometimes.

Burt looked at him. "You've been acting like that for a while. Don't think your Mom likes it." Burt finally said. "Yeah, Finn? What did you want to talk to me about?"

Finn thought back to Beiste's weight training class. "Beiste is making us do weight training with football. Is…like all that exercise okay?"

Burt just nodded. "Yeah, don't think anyone cares how much exercise you do. Runners go for like hours long walks or some shit. It's how much you don't do."

Finn wanted to tell him more. "What if you cut down a bit on food too?"

"That's not important." Burt shrugged. "Cutting down a bit is sorta…I don't know. I guess some people do it just so they can build a bit more muscle. There was something about carbs on that."

"The football players are being a bit more rough around me in the locker room. They're kinda making fun of me." For not eating anymore, for working so hard that Beiste thought it was kinda unhealthy and Sam made him sit down and eat something half the time because he thought Finn was doing wrong things. That might be why he was still fat, but he didn't want to listen to Sam.

Burt's eyes were back to the game and then he shook his head. "Kid, it's a field. They kinda do tend to do that. It's just to aggravate you or something."

"I mean…" Finn shook his head. "Never mind. I guess you're sorta right. Uh…I'm gonna go now."

Burt just gave Finn incentive to run out at 4AM because 'nobody cared how much exercise he did', or so his mind told him. Because he was fat and no matter how much you cut down on food too, it wouldn't matter. Carole bit her lip when she noticed there were heavy dark bags under Finn's eyes.

"Finn, did you sleep well?"

"Kid's been watching one too many late night marathons." Burt just said automatically.

Good. So Finn didn't have to make excuses anyway as long as Burt was there. He didn't think anyone cared if he'd been waking up early on purpose. Finn simply shot a grin towards Burt. "It was really good. I saw Pirates of the Caribbean and Keira Knightly is really…you know."

Burt shook his head in laughter. Carole raised an eyebrow towards Finn as she ran her hand through his hair affectionately. "Well, go to sleep earlier because your grades are slipping."

Finn just shrugged. "I guess I can do better."

Instead of studying for his Chemistry final, Finn drank a gallon of coffee, and fell asleep. He woke up 3AM, and reviewed some notes, but all he could think about was the chemical process of eating and everything was food, food, food, and he really wanted to eat.

"Finnegan," Carole passed by his room and saw that his eyes were glued to the Chemistry book but he can't really process anything. "Dinner's ready."

"Can you get Kurt to bring some up for me? 'Cause I'm really studying hard."

The dinner was binned and then Finn threw a bunch of other things on top to conceal it. Old papers he should've cleaned out years ago. Just after the exam. He'll eat after the exam.

He did his Chemistry final was three days later.

9.

Carole was working really late hours and sometimes passed by Finn's room to make sure he was sleeping since the bags never went away. She checked Kurt as well. When she was working a nightly shift, she made Burt check on him too.

Burt opened the doorway to Kurt's room, seeing his son with his eye-mask on was adorable. He smiled and shut the door.

He opened the door to Finn's room. Finn was still awake, clutching the duvet and looking pretty sick. He had some sort of rubber band on and was snapping it against his knuckles.

"You keep doing that and you get scars like you always do," Burt muttered.

Finn didn't tell him that if you shoved your knuckles down your throat to throw up your food, you had callouses. He stopped snapping the rubber band on his skin. "I really can't sleep," Finn finally confessed.

"Come on." Burt said, tapping on his shoulder. "Let's go downstairs. I'll put on something and we'll drink some beer, okay?"

Finn shook his head. "Mom will kill you if I get really drunk."

"With your size, I don't think you can get drunk off one beer." Burt ushered him downstairs. They let the television spit out reruns of _Two and a Half Men_, and by the time that it was 3:42AM, Finn was slumped down the toilet bowl, throwing up the contents of his stomach, which was barely anything.

"Kid, you alright?" Burt asked.

Finn nodded his head dumbly. He didn't even finish one beer before he got sick. "Guess I was wrong about big guys being light weights."

Finn nodded his head again. "Yeah, I guess? I'm just gonna go to bed now…can…can I like skip school tomorrow?"

"Sure," Burt muttered. "You sure you're okay?"

"Actually," Finn bit down his lower lip. "I think I'm getting really thin." He voiced out his concern.

"Well, you don't look any different." Finn almost threw off his shirt to show him the difference, but decided against it. It wasn't like Finn was parading around shirtless. If he didn't look thin then he wasn't thin, as simple as that. "Want us to weigh up and see though?"

"I'll weigh myself and tell you the number."

Finn stood on the scale. 152.2. "I gained like three pounds." He did, but he wasn't going to tell Burt the number and what it was before, as he stepped off.

"See?" Burt laid a hand on his shoulder. "You're fine."

"Yeah." Finn stared down at the mocking scale. "I guess I am."

10.

Finn finally took a deep breath. "Burt?"

Burt looked up from the car he was working on. "Finn? You okay?"

Finn nodded his head. "I guess I am," he said it almost as if he'd believe it now before he finally said. "We're doing Rocky Horror in Glee."

"Yeah?" Burt heard it from Kurt, and was about to tell him that, when Finn opened his mouth to speak again.

"They're making Kurt play a transvestite."

Burt dropped the wrench and was now more focused on Finn's words. "They're making me play Brad," he finally said but then searched the rest of the room as if he was afraid someone else might hear.

"I'm supposed to be playing Brad anyway, except that I'm…not perfect like Sam is. I'm…really fat." He said the last few words like they were made of poison.

Burt just shrugged, mind on Kurt as he stared at Finn's body. "You're a big guy, Finn. You're not fat."

That was the same thing, wasn't it? Burt just clasped a hand on Finn's shoulder. "I'm gonna go talk to Kurt. Damn Schuester. Just because the kid's gay doesn't mean that he wants to be in a skirt or something," Burt muttered and Finn stared back, heartbroken.

Sam told him to embrace his inner sexy. He really tried. He walked down the hall in his underwear. One of the jocks shoved him down.

"Look at you," he spat out in disgust.

Finn shut his eyes as the jock ran a finger down a visible rib in his ribcage. "Stand up. Now."

Finn did stand up and was visibly shaking as the guy looked at his legs. "You got one of them lady gaps." Finn looked down and realised he did have a courtesy gap between his legs.

The jock was shoved back down onto the ground. "Wear some clothes."

Karofsky looked sort of shocked as he looked away from Finn's body. Finn felt the jock pinch at his fat, and Finn's response was hitting his knee first.

"That's enough now," Emma muttered from where she stood. Her eyes averted towards Finn and she sounded like she was having an anxiety attack as she said, "F-F-Finn, you look…uh…your skin…your bones…show….your…"

Finn stood up. By that time, Emma had told Finn to wear his clothes and go to Figgins. He wore his clothes again and it was almost like nothing had happened. Emma was staring at his wrists, which were bonier than she remembered them to be.

Figgins called Mr Schuester and Burt was sitting there too now. Mr Schue insisted on calling him.

"Some students have already signed up for therapy."

Finn looked back, shutting his eyes as Burt stared at him. "But he's fine." Burt would explain. Figgins was just about to say something else when Mr Schue shook his head. "I think…Finn would talk better with Burt out."

Burt nodded his head and by then, Mr Schue sat down beside him. "What's going on, Finn?"

Finn shrugged. "I don't know." His voice was soft. "But I don't think I'm okay just yet, Mr Schue."

Mr Schue nodded his head as he stared at Finn's face. "Your face hasn't changed. Emma says you look dangerously thin."

Finn just shrugged. "I don't drop weight off my face, Mr Schue."

"Oh," Mr Schue said, looking up and down Finn's frame. It was like he barely changed at all, especially with the layers of shit he was wearing. Mr Schue can't really tell at all. "How much are you wearing right now?"

Finn just shrugged. "Like seven layers."

"Seven…" Mr Schue's eyes widened.

Finn just looked away. "I'm always cold."

"Of course you are." Emma told him what that meant and sent him off with a pamphlet about it as well. "Um…" Mr Schue didn't seem to want to discuss it entirely yet.

"Finn, you are really thin."

"Thanks, Mr Schue?" Finn raised an eyebrow.

"No, I mean way too thin," Mr Schue tried to explain it to him.

"Oh," Finn shut his eyes. "Okay."

"Okay?" Mr Schue repeated, his voice just louder as Finn shrugged his shoulders. When he walked outside, Mr Schue had given Burt the pamphlet Emma gave him about eating disorders. "Emma thinks you should have this."

"What for?"

Mr Schue couldn't speak. Burt thought it was for Kurt, as he slammed the pamphlet down on the table. Kurt insisted he did not have an eating disorder.

Finn didn't say anything.

11.

"The football team is still…like making fun of me," Finn finally said to Burt one day as he was giving him a wrench. He thought helping him in the shop would help.

"Yeah?" Burt raised an eyebrow. "You sure they're not messing with you?"

"They make fun of the way I eat." Finn said. Or not eat. Either way.

"Weird," Burt shrugged and then stared at Finn. "Well, you have this thing about pulling out cheese and eating it separately from a sandwich."

"Yeah." That was because he wanted to savour his meal as long as possible. If he ate the protein and dairy first, he might not want the rest of the sandwich. "Oh, and you eat those baby biscuits."

They were really low in calories, so Finn just nodded his head. "I guess."

"But that's okay," Burt muttered. "Anything else?"

"Nah," Finn shook his head.

"Besides, they're just kidding around with how you eat. I'm pretty sure they eat different too," Burt mused.

"Of course they do," Finn put the wrench in the tool box. "I'm gonna go eat dinner now." Finn just left after Burt said his okay.

The next morning, Finn was shoved straight into a locker.

"He bruises now. How cute."

Finn looked down at the bruises on his skin. He felt like he was going to pass out. _Just an apple. It's green. You don't have to worry about anything. If you pass out, people are going to notice! You can eat it. It's okay. It's not gluttony. It's nourishment. It's okay. Just eat it…swallow it… _Finn ate that lone apple that day and his only thoughts were: _you fail at life. You fail at everything. Better if you don't eat anything at all._

12.

Carole was staring at Finn as he woke up that morning. Finn got himself a cup of coffee and grabbed his plate of eggs, walking out of the door. Carole didn't really know why he just wouldn't sit down and eat them like he should but he said that he liked to in eat in front of the TV in her and Burt's room since cartoons were on in the morning. Carole shot a look towards Kurt and Burt. "Finn's starting to look really thin, you think?"

Kurt shrugged. "I didn't even know he was thin to begin with."

"Kid eats like a bulldozer. I don't think you should worry. Just yesterday, he ordered some pizza for him and Puck," Burt just responded. Kurt and Carole didn't seem so convinced.

Finn came back inside, and put the uneaten plate down along with his half-drunk coffee. "Puck just called. We're gonna go to Cinnabon." Finn sped off.

"See?" Burt just tried to explain to them.

"I suppose," Kurt said after a pause. "There's just this _feeling_…"

13.

Burt pulled an excited Carole and Kurt towards Finn, whom just congested some laxatives as he looked back, feeling like he was caught.

"Is this some sort of intervention?"

Burt finally said he popped the question to Carole. Carole immediately noted the look on Finn's face. "Honey, are you fine?"

"Sure, he is," Burt put a hand on his shoulder. He raised his eyebrow. Huh. He didn't notice Finn had bony shoulders before. "Can hardly contain his excitement."

Finn put on the fakest grin in the history of fake grins. Kurt raised an eyebrow, but still launched on wedding plans.

Burt reminded him of the budget.

Finn felt sick to his stomach. He'd just bought $400 worth of laxatives, binge food and diet pills from money he'd stolen from Burt's wallet.

Burt then made him feel like shit for not doing anything for the Karofsky situation. _You're greedy and disgusting. All you ever do is eat, purge, and steal Burt's money and waste it on even more food you'll just purge!_

Finn didn't want to think about how much food he ate in the past month as Burt reminded him of his responsibilities towards Kurt. His head was filled with lead. It took all of the energy not to scream back at him.

Burt told Kurt to follow him just after. Burt was pissed.

Just as Finn was gonna leave, Karofsky finally said. "You know you looked fine before? This isn't you." Karofsky suddenly muttered.

"I looked fine just the way I was?"

"Hell yeah."

He sung _Just the Way You Are_ to Kurt in the wedding. Even if he was as jealous as Hell, he wished that Kurt will never ever be in Finn's personal Hell. Burt was okay with him right now, he guessed.

Finn felt like a kid because he was waiting for Kurt to say the same to him.

Kurt didn't.

14.

When Kurt was at Dalton, Finn can skip dinners and lunches all the time.

Because Burt really made an effort to cook or make something when Kurt was around. Now, Kurt wasn't around so he wouldn't have to feel complied to make Finn anything.

Burt watched Finn sitting on the couch. His new shirt loose on him. Burt made it his personal mission to make awkward talks with him now that Finn wasn't there. "Hey, kid."

"Hey, Burt."

"You okay?"

Finn nodded and then bit down his lower lip. "I'm hungry, but I _can't_ really eat." He finally admitted.

Instead of talking to him, Burt gave him some stomach medicine and told him that it'll help settle his stomach. "There you go, big guy."

Burt felt accomplished. Finn felt insulted.

15.

Finn looked down at the plate before him as he shoved it away. Carole looked back at him. "Something wrong, Finn?"

_I don't want to eat._ Finn shook his head. "I feel sorta sick."

"He even looks it," Burt finally agreed. Carole nodded, running her hand through his hair, and telling him he can stay home.

Burt thought that he should at least make an effort to be with the sick kid. He might puke or something. Burt would've done the same for Kurt.

Finn was sitting down in bed. He weighed himself. His 27-inch waist on his height was apparently a .36. He was tinier than Kurt ever was. His BMI was 16.4. He waited to feel happy.

He didn't feel happy.

16.

_"…oh, Hudson, on that starvation diet?"_

165.3.

Finn dug around for a knife to cut the bread he had to make himself a sandwich.

_"Dammit, you're fat no matter what you do."_

150.4.

He found the knife and cut his apple.

_"Shit. You're like…nothing."_

140.2.

His knife dragged across his orange, cutting into little pieces.

_"It's like you don't even exist."_

He won't.

131.0.

Finn's knife finally found his wrists.

17.

"Kid! Got you some medicine and some brownie thing I used to get Kurt when he was…" Burt stopped in dead in his tracks as he looked at Finn, where blood was pooling from his wrists on top of his bed, staining the shits. "…sick."

Burt moved towards Finn and then placed a hand on his wrist, trembling.

His pulse was really, really low.

Burt pulled Finn into his arms. He was really, really light. Finn was pretty young. He was petrified. No, he was horrified. No, he was freaking fucking terrified and his son was holding on a lifeline and all he can think about was: _why? Why? Why?_

Half an hour later, he was hooked to an IV. Carole raced there and Kurt looked pretty pale. Burt wondered if he looked that lifeless and dead when he had his heart attack.

When the Doctor walked up to them, Burt waited for the worst, and he got so much more.

"There are definitely physical bruising there."

"Yeah. Football team." Kurt immediately answered. "They…pick on him," he scrunched up his nose. Burt can remember him saying something about that too.

"I don't understand," Carole shook her head. "He doesn't bruise easily at all."

"He's anaemic and his blood pressure is really low." The Doctor added on before saying. "He has cardiac arrhythmia too. His heart is…" he made some sort of gesture with his hands.

"Anyway," the Doctor didn't seem to care at all. "You are aware that this was a suicide attempt?"

Carole let out a sob. Kurt looked down. Burt didn't even say anything. They all knew it was definitely Finn's keen attempt and taking his own life.

"Also," the Doctor said. "He has some sort of electrolyte imbalance. He'd have had to be hospitalised even without the suicide attempt on his part. What I wanted to ask you if you thought Finn exhibited any dietary changes recently?"

"Kid talked to me," Burt said all of a sudden. "Told me something about them picking on him once 'cause of how he eats. I told him it was okay and let him go on."

"Burt, it wasn't your fault. He—"Carole began but Burt cut her off.

"He told me about dieting and his teach tried to tell me something too. He tried to tell me that he was hungry but he couldn't eat once and a few times, he even asked me about weird shit around food and carbs…and I think calories and shit." Burt said. "Think he has a food problem or…something?"

Kurt then added on. "Dad, I just noticed Finn was thin all of a sudden and he asked me about what he can have for 96 or 132 calories. He told me he weighed 182 like it was something revolutionary and—"

"182?" Carole repeated, staring at Kurt like this was new information. "You do know that Finn weighs 238 so it is a big deal if he lost 50 pounds out of nowhere."

"I think I have enough to go on, from the blood pressure, brittle nails and skin, and the electrolyte imbalance to say that your son probably does have an eating disorder." The Doctor sounded out carelessly.

Burt looked back down at Finn. "Wait, wait, what do you mean he has an eating disorder?"

"He has an eating disorder," the Doctor shrugged. "Probably anyway. Any other infection was ruled out and you both said that he exhibited actually dietary changes on his own."

"But a whole eating disorder?" Burt said.

"I knew he was getting too thin…" Carole said.

By the time that Finn did wake up, Finn just looked around and found Kurt staring at him with a pointed expression. "Finn."

"Hey," Finn raised an eyebrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"…how much do you weigh?"

"Dude, you don't just ask another dude how much he…"

"It's bad, isn't it?" Burt sounded out as Finn looked at him. His heart rate was significantly increasing.

Finn shrugged. "Sort of?" he added on. "But I'm still alive and it's not like the weight's killing me or…"

"How much, kid?" Burt's voice was stern.

"One." Finn began. "Thirty-one." He added on.

Carole's eyes filled with tears. Kurt looked pale, but Burt tried to keep his expression steady as he sat down beside it. "And how do you feel about it?"

Finn shrugged. "Quinn's 125."

"Quinn's 5'6!" Kurt shouted. Finn flinched but Burt kept his expression unchangeable.

"How do you think Quinn looks?"

"Good." Finn said, and then looked back at Burt. "Rachel's 116."

"Do you want to be 116?"

Finn shrugged. "It's a nice number," he just said. "But I don't know."

"Okay." Burt tried to keep his expression the same. Carole just sat down beside him and put a hand underneath his chin.

"Get this obsession out of your head, Finnegan."

Finn just shut his eyes, as hot tears filled them.

"Which one? The one where I die or the one where I lose weight?" Finn asked, but his voice was stoic again.

"What's this about?" Carole prodded.

Finn just shrugged.

"What's it about, Finnegan?" Carole was using that threatening tone of voice she did when she needed him to talk about something.

"Unless you wanted to pursuit a career of male modelling, I didn't see any point in starving yourself." Kurt finally stated.

Finn just chuckled slightly. "Guess so."

"Finnegan, you're not answering my question." Carole cupped his chin. "Tell me. Talk to me."

Finn felt Burt's hand on his shoulder. Finn didn't look at him. Finn just looked back to Carole. Finn looked at his Mom before he collapsed; pressing his head against her shoulder as he cried like he did when she found out Quinn was pregnant.

"Shh," Carole laid a hand on Finn's hair as the other one rubbed small circles on his back.

18.

"You gonna get off that thing any time soon?" Burt asked.

Finn stopped dead in his tracks, but shook his head as he looked down at the number before him. Burt walked towards him. "We got you a therapist."

"Yeah, I know." Finn muttered as he finally got off his scale, stowing it away.

"Always weigh with your clothes off?"

Finn nodded as he rubbed his arm. "Clothes kinda throw me off by like four pounds. I wear a lot of layers."

Burt nodded his head. "Finn, you look sick, you know that?"

Finn shook his head. "No." His voice was so sincere that it hurt. "Karofsky knew." He finally said.

Burt raised an eyebrow as Finn exploded. "Karofsky knew! That was why I couldn't help Kurt, okay? He saw me and he freaked and I couldn't be around him because I thought that he might tell Kurt or…" Finn shook in his position. "I'm really sorry, okay?"

"Finn, you know I was angry? Didn't mean a thing I said," Burt tipped Finn's face. "I thought you can take care of yourself 'cause you were this big guy that knew how to tackle. I could've done something…_should've_…if it was Kurt, damn if it was Kurt…I can't imagine what your Mother is going through right now."

Finn looked down.

"Try to eat a little?"

"I ate yesterday." Finn pointed out.

"Yeah. You did. Don't like the number?"

Finn shook his head. "It's a lot." Finn shrugged.

"How much?"

Finn didn't answer him. Burt knew why. He probably weighed less than 131 if he didn't want to admit it. "You gonna talk to me if you feel down?"

"I did."

"I know, kiddo. I'm sorry." Burt honestly said.

Finn looked up at him. There was no contempt in his eyes. "I know you won't get better for me," Burt muttered. "But for your Mother? Would you at least eat dinner?"

Finn shrugged. "I dunno. I'm kinda angry at her too."

"Why?"

Finn looked at him. "'Cause she loves me too much and I took like $500 from her bank account so I can diet pills, laxatives and binge food. And I took like nearly a $1000 from yours."

"Thought that was Kurt," Burt chuckled sadly.

Finn just shrugged. "Can you go?"

"One condition. Will you give me the number?" Finn shook his head.

Just before Burt left, Finn finally said, "127."

19.

Finn ate everything Carole made. He didn't really keep it down and Kurt knew this too. Carole knew it and Burt can _hear_ it.

"He'll be fine. He's just going to need to adjust."

"Dad, he's even thinner."

Next time that Carole fed him was the last straw as Finn stood up again, but Burt pulled him down with his hands still on his shoulders.

Finn looked up. "I was just going to—"

"We can hear you, Finn." Kurt just stated and Finn looked away.

Finn tried to move but Burt just kept pinning him. "You are keeping this down, okay?" Burt said. "You're not going anywhere."

Burt freaked when he saw hot tears run down Finn's eyes. "Let go of me! Dude, this isn't cool!"

"And neither is killing yourself like this!" Kurt exclaimed, his hands balled into fists. "Finn, this isn't exactly an improvement!"

"He's trying his best," Carole tried to excuse him. "Aren't you, honey?"

"Finn isn't trying at all!" Kurt added on.

Finn shut his eyes. He knew it was true too.

"Hey? Got a minute?" Beiste asked.

"I'm sorta going to Glee." Finn said, but agreed anyway. She wanted to weigh him apparently.

114.5 on Coach Beiste's scale. Beiste looked at him and then said, "Okay." Her voice was thick.

"Okay?" Finn said.

"You're off my team."

Finn's eyes widened. "What?" his voice was high. "You can't do that! I'm gonna go tell Mr Schue about this!"

"Finn, I—"Beiste was cut off as Finn stormed.

In the choir room, Finn stormed inside as he looked at everyone else. Kurt was particularly eying him as Finn exclaimed. "She cut me of the team! Beiste cut me off the team! Mr Schue, talk to her or something because it's not like I…"

Mr Schue looked apologetic.

"…you think I should…?" Finn shook his head. "Why?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt said. "I told her."

"Told her what? That I don't keep food in me so that I'm supposed to be off the team?" Finn snarled in some sort of dark tone. Mr Schue's eyes widened. He knew that Finn had some sort of eating problem, and it was obvious it was probably also an eating disorder. "You wanna tell Mr Schue stuff now too so he can kick me off Glee? Like when I tried to kill myself?"

Kurt bit down his lower lip. "Dad told me to."

Finn's eyes were animalistic as he left the choir room. Kurt was shaking now, tears in his eyes. "I tried." He looked at the shocked Gleeks' faces. "I tried."

20.

"Burt! Come down here!"

Finn was stomping his feet like an impatient kid.

"Coming…wait a second…I'm talking to your therapist, Finn. We're getting you a new one. This one isn't doing shit for you."

Why didn't anyone understand? He didn't want a therapist.

Finn heard the word "he needs to be hospitalised" from Carole. He suddenly felt really light-headed.

"I'm coming," Burt said.

By the time that Burt came downstairs, he saw that Finn had knocked over a vase on the coffee table when he'd fainted.

Burt pulled Finn into his arms, not quite sure he was using to the lightness. "We're trying, kiddo. Just…you're strong, right?"

Burt was probably kidding himself with that statement. "I'll take you upstairs and you'll be okay."

Burt laid Finn down whom mewled and whimpered into his arms. "Don't take me to some hospital like I'm some mental patient! I'm fine! I'm fine!"

Kurt was standing by the doorway as Burt shook his head. "I'm sorry. I really am, kiddo."

Kurt buried his head in his hands and for the first time in a really long time, whispered the words:

"Please don't take him away too, God."


End file.
